


sober

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Basically, I just wanna get high with my best friend, Inspired by Moments in Love by Charli XCX, Kiss him on the tongue just like I’m your boyfriend, M/M, Over a weed pen, Schlatt is a smug asshole, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Smoking, Weed, Wilbur is a mess, Wilbur questions his sexuality because of Schlatt, no beta we die like ghostbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “i’m not letting you take a hit off my pen, dude, stop asking. i put my mouth on that shit, and if you put your mouth on it, it’ll be gay. are you gay, wilbur?”no response. silence, a pause, and then...“are you?”
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 12
Kudos: 362
Collections: Anonymous





	sober

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work regarding wilbur and schlatt, so if anyone is ooc, no shit! this is obviously not a situation that would really happen. enjoy! :)

wilbur was way too sober for this shit. 

he leaned further towards the roof of the building, throwing his head back in frustration, eyes screwed shut. 

to put it simply, he was fucked. today was not his day, at all. he had overslept, proceed to get caught in traffic, prompting him to arrive late at a mandatory conference, gotten scolded at, drove back home and decided to take a walk to clear his head and, wouldn’t you know, it had started raining halfway down the road. 

he had to make his way back home, wet, took a hot shower and went to check up on the news on his phone and hey! he forgot to charge it the night prior, so it was hanging off by a thread of the battery. 

his phone spent its last dying moments making itself useful as wilbur called up one of his friends, tiredly explaining the situation through hasty ranting and cussing. that seemed enough to persuade the friend in question to swing by his home, which seemed like the only thing that went his way. under normal circumstances he expected more prying and complaining, but maybe he caught him at a good time. 

that’s how he found himself on the roof of his apartment, sitting side by side with his ever-so smug asshole of a friend. 

“so let me get this straight,” wilbur muttered harshly under his breath. “i call you up, clearly having a bad day, and you decide the way to cheer me up is to swing by my house with a weed pen?” 

his friend opened his mouth, forming what would have been a response if the brit hadn’t cut him off to finish his tangent. “that’s not why i’m mad. i’m mad because you brought a weed pen, and you’re not even offering to share it with me! what the fuck, schlatt.” 

the other male barked out am amused laugh, shrugging. “you didn’t ask me to bring you one.” 

“do you even have a spare?”

“nope.” 

wilbur groaned, carding a hand through the messy curls of his hair which, for the record, were still damp from the shower. he could feel it drip occasionally down his neck and underneath his sweater, which only added to his irritation. 

“schlatt, come on. this is like rubbing salt in the wound.” 

“exactly why i’m enjoying this so much.”

a tense - or, at least in wilbur’s perspective - silence hung in the air as neither of them added to the conversation. 

until. 

“schlatt, one hit, that’s all i-“

“i’m not letting you take a hit of my pen, dude, stop asking. i put my mouth on that shit, and if you put your mouth on it, it’ll be gay. are you gay, wilbur?”

the brunette jolted, admittedly caught off guard by the question and sudden turn of sentence. 

he furrowed his brows, biting the inside of his cheek as he guided his focus onto the floor beneath him, swinging his legs idly off the edge of the roof. 

schlatt rose a brow at the lack of response, and despite not looking at him, wilbur could feel something stupid was going to come out of his mouth. 

“are you?” 

wilbur stayed silent. 

it wasn’t the repetition of the question that worried him. it was the sincerity of it. it didn’t contain any trace of mockery or sarcasm. it was just... a question. 

“no,” he finally answered. 

and that was the truth. wilbur soot was not a gay man. 

throughout his high school days he found himself yearning for a female companion, often wondering what his ideal girlfriend would be, what he liked or looked for in women, and when he would finally start dating one. 

hell, he had even written songs about women (never published or shared publically, of course) and, if he wanted to go there, got off to fantasies of him and some random concept of a girl he had thought up in his head. 

so no, wilbur soot wasn’t gay. 

but... to deny he had ever entertained the idea of getting involved with a male in that sense would be a lie. 

he could admit he had found his eyes lingering on a group of dudes he would see at the mall, or his mind straying as he watched a suggestive scene in a movie concerning a man. 

but he wasn’t gay. 

“hello?” 

wilbur snapped his head up at the sound of his friend’s voice calling his attention, turning to finally meet his gaze. “huh?”

the look he was met with concerned him. 

schlatt was staring. just staring. no trace of readable emotion on his face, just a blank stare burning holes into wilbur’s soul, or so it felt like. 

“uh. schlatt?” 

“you ever fucked a man, wil?”

wilbur choked, eyes widening as he sputtered, his brain faltering and failing to form a coherent thought. 

“i- i’m sorry, what?” 

“you heard me.” 

“no!” the brit yelled out, exasperation evident in his tone. “why would- of course i haven’t! i think you’re high enough already.” 

schlatt pulled the pen up to his mouth and taking another hit. “i’m thinking as clear as ever. it’s just...” he shrugged. “you seemed to really think hard on your response.” 

“because i wasn’t expecting you to genuinely ask about my sexuality, you bastard,” wilbur scoffed. 

“come here.” 

“what?” 

“jesus, are you deaf or something? going senile in your twenties? i said come here, dipshit.” 

wilbur hesitated. and apparently for far too long, because before he could even register the movement, schlatt had gotten up and scooted towards his side. 

“looks like i gotta do everything myself here.” 

“what are you doing?” 

“you want a hit, don’t you?” 

wilbur quickly nodded, relieved the topic had seemingly shifted. “right. yes, i mean.” 

he held his hand out expectantly, reaching out for the pen only for schlatt to pull it away out of his grasp. “what-?”

“lean in.” 

“i really don’t know what you want me to do here. just give-“ 

“god, i really do have to take initiative on everything with you, huh wil?” 

confusion filled wilbur’s gaze, before it was quickly replaced with shock as he felt schlatt’s hands cup his face, pulling him forward. “wh-“ 

“open your mouth.” 

a meek whine slipped out the brunette’s throat at the bold request, looking down at his slightly shorter friend in the most bewildered expression he could manage. 

schlatt kept that infuriatingly indifferent gaze, only cocking a brow expectantly. 

overcome with the urge to comply, wilbur slowly parted his lips, watching as the other brought the pen up to his mouth, slowly inserting it inside. 

“inhale.”

this time, wilbur obeyed almost instantly, inhaling shakily as he heard the pen buzz softly. 

he could feel the smoke breeze inside him, fluttering his eyes shut at the relief. it felt like a huge weight was lifted off his chest, finally, a break from the tension - even if a new type had made its way present. 

his shoulders fell, feeling his head go lax in schlatt’s grasp. it was comforting. he almost forgot about the situation he was in. 

almost. 

“holy shit.” 

wilbur’s eyes shot open, and was instantly met with the most shit-eating grin he had ever seen. 

“you’re like a submissive little dog.” 

the brit’s cheeks quickly filled with heat, sharply pulling away from the american’s hold on him and scooting back. “shut the fuck up.” 

“hey, look at me.” 

wilbur shook his head in refusal, and he could feel his ears burn in shame. he didn’t know why he went pliant like that, it just felt natural. 

“no.” 

“wil.” 

another stubborn head shake. he was suddenly intensely aware of his heart pounding in his chest, as if his ribcage was going to burst open. 

“wilbur.” 

“no.” 

“wilbur soot.” 

“fuck off.”

“puppy.” 

wilbur finally whipped his head to look at schlatt, the burning feeling in his cheeks growing hotter at the nickname. “don’t call me that.” 

“fine, i just needed your attention. do i have it now?” 

“what do you want, schlatt?” 

“you aren’t gay, right?” 

wilbur shot a dangerous glare his way. “no, schlatt, i am not gay. i thought we moved past this. look, maybe inviting you over wasn’t a good idea.” 

schlatt grinned - a response wilbur wasn’t expecting. “why not?” 

“because i was supposed to cool off! i had a shit day, schlatt. shit. and then you come over to get high on your own, refuse to share and then out of nowhere pry on my sexuality as if it’s no big deal! and- that dog comment? really?” wilbur snapped, feeling his patience break. 

“i mean, who’s really the gay one here, huh? you grabbed my face like i was a girl you were about to kiss. i almost thought-“ 

wilbur suddenly stopped mid sentence. he almost thought what? 

“almost thought what, wil? go on.” 

“nothing,” he sighed. “just- i don’t even want to get high anymore. you’re already tripping out, and... you don’t- what- what are you doing...?” he trailed off, watching as schlatt had started moving towards him again. 

“schlatt..?”

“wilbur,” schlatt hummed simply, grabbing the taller male’s face gently. this time, though, wilbur pulled back quickly. 

“no! i said i don’t want another hit. i’m done, okay?” 

“who said i was offering another hit?” 

wilbur let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “wh...” he cleared his throat. suddenly the ground was a lot more interesting to look at. “what else would you be doing then?” 

“i know you haven’t fucked a guy,” schlatt answered bluntly, brushing his thumb gently across the brunette’s bottom lip. “but have you kissed one before?” 

it felt as if the air had been forcefully knocked out of wilbur’s chest. he felt the blistering heat return to his ears, heart hammering wildly. 

he really, really was too sober for this. 

“schlatt, i- what? n-no, but...” 

“that’s gonna change right now, loverboy.” 

and with that, schlatt closed the distance between their lips, kissing the british boy firmly. 

wilbur’s eyes lingered wide open, processing the gravity of the situation and what exactly was happening. it didn’t take long for him to realize, slipping his eyes shut for a second time. 

they stayed like that for what seemed like just a few moments - too short, almost - before schlatt pulled apart. 

wilbur opened his eyes reluctantly, and was again met with the look of a man who was far too amused for his own good. 

“you sure you aren’t gay, wilbur?” 

“oh, fuck off!” 

wilbur wasn’t gay. but, maybe, maybe he wasn’t the straightest person out there, either.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is greatly appreciated :) thank you for reading! smoke responsibly, folks


End file.
